


Datastorm Drabbles

by Virtual Revolutions (maidendays)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Datastormshipping, Dating, Drabble Sequence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 17,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidendays/pseuds/Virtual%20Revolutions
Summary: "When Revolver asks Yusaku to date him he has no idea what he's getting himself into."A series of Ryoken/Yusaku drabbles depicting their (mis)adventures in dating, romance and love. Mostly fluff with some angst and trauma tossed in. Updated whenever I have ideas.(Note: Individual drabbles are linked by an ongoing sequence of events, and thus must be read in order; this has evolved into a standard chaptered fic)





	1. The Question

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that after chapter 6 trigger warnings may apply. These will always be noted at the top of new chapters. Some of the content is upsetting, but for the most part the fic is light and cute.

Revolver has been mulling over the question for months. Every delusion he has had about this ends in disaster. Nervous fails to adequately define the emotion he feels when he finally decides to blurt out:

"Will you go out with me?"

He expects rejection.

After he joined Team Playmaker, Playmaker's apparent disdain for him settled into firm indifference; a blank nothingness of an expression that never reveals anything. Fujiki Yusaku is even worse, displaying a whole range of disappointed and bored facial expressions that LINK VRAINS can't ever hope to faithfully replicate. Yusaku has never given any indication of interest in anyone. Yusaku is a wild card. Yusaku will surely say--

"Ok."

Wait what? Yusaku didn't reject him? What is he supposed to do now?

"....really?"

"I guess."

"Wait... You actually like me?"

"More or less."

"More or.. what kind of answer is that?"

Yusaku turns away with an upturn of the lips so faint it can barely be considered a smile, schoolbag draped over his shoulder, and calls back in a bored tone. "You coming or not?"

"I can't believe this..." Revolver mutters when he's caught up to Yusaku's strides.

"Buy me a hotdog."

"What?"

"This is a date, isn't it? Buy me a hotdog."

".....a date? I only just asked you out."

Yusaku's stare is unnerving. He doesn't speak, apparently leading the way through the plaza to a very familiar yellow foodtruck.

"The Works."

"Huh?"

"It means everything on it."

What has he gotten himself into?

"Right......"

He orders two hotdogs made the same way. The owner of Cafe Nagi gives him the most suspicious glance while counting out his change.

Yusaku has settled at a table, caught up with his tablet, seemingly already having forgotten that Revolver is there.

Is this a test?

"Two beef franks with The Works for Kogami-san," calls out the owner in an icy tone. "Thank you dear customer, come again."

Revolver picks up the order, turning to the table, staring. Yusaku is definitely ignoring him.

What even is this?

"Your hotdog...." says Revolver dully.

"Thanks," says Yusaku, seizing the foil-wrapped hotdog from his hand without ever looking away from his tablet.

Revolver drops into the seat across from him, unwrapping his hotdog, bewilderment worn completely undisguised.

Is this what dating Fujiki Yusaku will be like?

He realizes a bit too late that he doesn't know the real Yusaku at all.

Revolver has never felt so underwhelmed and confused in his life.


	2. Masks

Fujiki Yusaku is difficult to date.

Yusaku doesn't answer his phone or reply to text messages. LINK VRAINS chat messages get a one word reply if Revolver is lucky.

The only time when Revolver has any chance of intercepting his boyfriend is if he waits for him by the gates at the high school. Revolver is quickly learning that Yusaku doesn't seem to have any qualms about cutting class (which he does with shocking frequency), so not even that can guarantee that Revolver will be able to work around his boyfriend's frustrating stealth.

It's been a month since Yusaku agreed to date him. They've gone to dinner together a few times (always to very public fast food joints where Yusaku always seems to go for the most unhealthy thing on the menu), and have caught a few sci-fi adventures films at the cinema.. but they haven't so much as held hands.

Applying the label of 'boyfriend' to Yusaku is beginning to feel like a grave disservice to the word. They aren't even really friends; Playmaker's indifference towards him hasn't changed at all. Yusaku feels equally as distant outside of LINK VRAINS as he does within the virtual world.

Revolver can't help feeling that Yusaku is purposely holding back.

~~

Revolver stands with Blue Angel near the bottom of a cliff formation, just outside a cave on a virtual shoreline where Team Playmaker has made camp for the evening. Above the cliffs stands Playmaker, a lone soldier waiting for a coming war.

"Everyone wears masks, you know?"

"Hm?"

Blue Angel draws a heart in the air with her hands. "This identity too was a mask. It eventually fell off. You're still wearing yours."

He's about to make some cold comment about how an idol couldn't possibly compare herself to them, but then he recalls Go Onizuka mentioning that Blue Angel had a rough childhood too. Maybe she's worth listening to.

"He wears his so tightly," she continues, "it may be suffocating him to hold on to his burdens like that all the time. But if you want to know him.... truly know him, I mean.. you should find out how to remove his mask."

"Blue Angel... You.."

Blue Angel smiles, a cute grin floating in idol aura, before leaping down the cliff to join Go Onizuka in the sand.

Revolver glances up. Playmaker hasn't moved from his post. He supposes he should seize the opportunity before it's gone.

Playmaker doesn't greet him when Revolver finishes ascending the cliffs. Playmaker doesn't move even a bit. Revolver is beginning to wonder if he's been misunderstanding Playmaker's apparent indifference towards him. Revolver removes his avatar's mask and cradles it in his hands. 

They don't talk for a long while. Revolver silently admires the way the ocean breeze unsettles Playmaker's hair; Playmaker's face is especially handsome in profile.

"You're staring," says Playmaker.

"I am not," replies Revolver, crossing his arms over his chest, mask dangling on his fingertips. "I'm observing."

"Observing what?"

"Your mask."

Playmaker nods once but doesn't speak.

"She said we all wear masks. Some more tightly than others, but that they all eventually fall off."

"Blue Angel did?" Playmaker exhales, watching the crashing waves. "She's not wrong, but... Some masks are necessary for survival and will never fall off."

"I understand," says Revolver.

"But even those masks will crack under the right circumstances..."

Revolver watches in confusion as Playmaker rapidly scans the area in all directions before brushing his soft lips against Revolver's.


	3. Touch

Yusaku knows he's frustrating and boring and bland. Yusaku knows he's quiet and awkward and slow.

Yusaku wouldn't date himself, honestly.

But here's Revolver still taking him to movies and dinner and the arcade, treating him like a completely normal teenager.

"Do you want to come over to my house on Saturday?" asks Revolver over dinner one evening.

Yusaku hides his mouth behind his jumbo vanilla milkshake. "To your house?"

"To study, I mean," says Revolver a bit too quickly, sticking a potato wedge in his mouth and looking occupied with the task of chewing it.

"I suppose..."

"I have advanced coursework." Revolver's words are rushed; he's clearly struggling to properly form this excuse. "I was so busy for all those months that I've fallen behind on it."

"Mm," hums Yusaku, biting down on the milkshake's straw.

"Right.. so..."

"So...?"

"Look I... I like you... a lot honestly.. but I have to admit that I'm concerned you don't like me back... We've been together for nearly two months but..."

Is it the lighting or is Revolver a bit flushed?

"But you're unhappy?" Yusaku provides, having figured this out over a month ago.

"You won't touch me unless we're in LINK VRAINS." 

"You're doing nothing wrong.."

"But I sound terribly needy, don't I? Damn it this is so embarrassing.. forget I said anything.."

"I'm the one with the problem," states Yusaku, pushing his milkshake aside, appetite lost. "I'm broken."

Revolver looks horrified. "Don't say that!"

A few of the other diners shush him.

"Why not? It's true."

"Don't put yourself down like that, I mean."

Yusaku doesn't understand the difference. A normal person probably would.

"I have PTSD, chronic anxiety, obsessive tendencies, intimacy issues-"

"Please stop," says Revolver, looking pained and frantic.

Yusaku does so, staring down at the half-eaten hamburger on his plate, disappointed that he's too anxious at the moment to finish it.

"I'm sorry," whispers Revolver a while later. "I should be patient. You've been through a lot. It's selfish of me to expect anything more than this."

That stings. That stings a lot.

"You're normal," says Yusaku, bitterly. "Why are you dating me when it's obviously causing you so much pain?"

"Because I like you!" Revolver's fist connects with the table; a woman at the next booth gasps in surprise.

The passionate anger behind that declaration is enough to startle Yusaku out of his self-deprecation.

"Ok," says Yusaku simply, cracking a smile.

Revolver stares back, tense. He exhales and shakes out his fist, wincing.

Yusaku tries not to laugh but fails; this is ridiculous. "Are you okay?"

"It hurts a bit..."

"That tends to happen when you smack your hand."

Revolver shakes his head. Yusaku covers Revolver's hurt hand with his own.

"You're wrong," Yusaku says, gently stroking the reddening knuckles with his thumb and meeting Revolver's surprised eyes, "I do like you."


	4. Waiting

Yusaku has limitations. He can't help pulling away from Revolver's touch. They've worked their way up to finger entwining, and he can touch Revolver's hands and arms and face, but any touch that requires Revolver in control is just too...

"I'm sorry. This is the most I can manage," says Yusaku, resisting the urge to pull away.

Revolver drops his hand from Yusaku's face. "It's okay. You're doing well."

Yusaku makes a face. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

Revolver moves back from where he's been leaning towards Yusaku on the couch.

"I'm trying," says Yusaku with a frown.

"I know," says Revolver. "It's okay to take it slow. We'll get there eventually."

"How long in the future is 'eventually'?"

"Whenever you're ready."

"What if I'm never ready?"

"I'll wait."

"For how long?"

"For as long as it takes."

Yusaku sighs in exasperation. "You'll give up eventually."

"Kusanagi-san hasn't."

"He's different. His brother was taken too. He probably felt duty-bound to care for me."

Revolver goes very quiet, as he always does when the Hanoi Project comes up in conversation.

"Aren't you the same? You feel guilt over what your father did to me and the others, and you feel that you need to-"

"That's not true. If all I wanted was to help you I'd pay for therapy, not try these comfort-level exercises with you every week. Please give me more credit than that."

"...sorry."

"Don't apologize," says Revolver, mimicking Yusaku's tone.

Yusaku throws a pillow at Revolver's face. Revolver catches the pillow before it reaches its target, and settles it under his arms.

"I don't want you to be unhappy..." whispers Yusaku, wringing his hands in his lap. "I don't know if I'll ever be ready for sex. Maybe in LINK VRAINS but.."

"If the thought of kissing me is too much for you then why even worry about sex? Address this in a logical order. Don't start running before you've learned to crawl."

"But you want sex.."

"Seriously Fujiki, forget the sex. I'm happy enough to hold your hand for a minute longer each day."

"When are you going to stop calling me that?"

"When _I'm_ ready. Or when you stop calling me 'Revolver' offline. Whichever comes first."

"You'll be waiting for a while then..." says Yusaku with a small smile.

"As long as it takes."


	5. December 24th

It's December 24th and LINK VRAINS is in full holiday event mode. Snow falls from the sky, the buildings are decorated in lights, and everywhere duelists are racing around trying to rack up enough points to obtain this year's event-only cards.

Team Playmaker avoids the crowds, preferring the solitude of a roof top overlooking the event plaza. Up here they are less likely to be showered in the hero worship that surfaces whenever they are seen in game.

"What is _that_?" screeches Blue Angel, nearly falling off the electrical box she's perched on.

"You don't remember the Holly Jolly Holiday armor set from 5 years ago?" shouts Go Onizuka, spinning in a circle to show off the Santa Claus inspired event-only armor set in all its tacky glory.

"I joined the game later than that," replys Blue Angel with a cute sigh. "I didn't know the event admins had ever created an armor set like that one. The events haven't always been dueling-based?"

"It was available to acquire again last year," adds Playmaker. "In the premium shop."

"Even Playmaker knows of the Holly Jolly Holiday armor set," accuses Go Onizuka.

"I get it, I get it, give an idol a break," says Blue Angel dismissively, and then a moment later in a bothered tone that sounds much more like Zaizen Aoi, "No doubt the female version of that armor set is fanservice-y and gratuitous. Don't want it."

Go Onizuka, Revolver and Playmaker all share an awkward glance.

"Knew it," says Blue Angel in the most satisfied tone.

"Say Playmaker..." begins Revolver a long moment later, smile not in the least bit coy, "You wouldn't happen to own this armor set, would you?"

Playmaker gives Revolver his most blank look. "Don't even begin fantasizing about that."

Go Onizuka and Blue Angel burst out laughing.

~~

It's December 24th and Revolver has (somehow) managed to convince his boyfriend to log off LINK VRAINS and leave the house.

"Where are you taking me?" asks Yusaku as they stroll down one of Den City's busiest avenues.

As in LINK VRAINS, the real world is alive with winter holiday cheer. All around them are couples, families and friends hurrying through the snow.

"You'll know when we get there," replies Revolver, cryptic.

"I don't like surprises."

"You'll like this one."

Revolver watches Yusaku bite his lower lip, wishing desperately to kiss it. Instead, Revolver wraps his arm around Yusaku's shoulders as they walk; Yusaku doesn't pull away.

A while later Revolver stops outside a relic of a game store squished between a coffee shop and an organic grocery store. A mother and her two children exit the store in a rush, the door smacking Revolver in the face; he accepts the woman's humble apology, waving the family off before going inside, Yusaku trailing in after him.

"Busier than usual," comments Revolver. "I'm actually surprised to see children in here at all."

"Are you okay?" asks Yusaku, reaching up to touch the spot on Revolver's nose where the door hit him.

Revolver grasps Yusaku's hand and lowers it, entwining their fingers. "Just a bump, don't worry."

"Ah is that Kogami-kun?" comes a delighted voice from behind them.

"Merry Christmas, Yamada-san," greets Revolver, guiding Yusaku toward the old man behind the counter. "Still in business I hope?"

"Those fancy LINK VRAINS duel disks are keeping me alive. Parents have been in and out of here all day buying the latest model for their kids. Gentrification hasn't killed me yet," declares the old man with a merry chuckle, "Who's this with you? Girlfriend?"

"Something like that," says Revolver politely, ignoring Yusaku's bemused look, "I was hoping you wouldn't mind digging into your archived stock?"

"Always happy to bring the classics out of storage. Hold on."

"Girlfriend?" repeats Yusaku after the old man has disappeared.

"He has bad eyes," says Revolver with a shrug. "You do have a feminine face, Fujiki."

Yusaku yanks his hand away, glaring. Revolver laughs.

"Here we go," announces the old man when he's returned a moment later, setting a cardboard box on the counter. "Forgive the dust. I rarely have the opportunity to show off these beauties. Take your pick."

Revolver opens the box, tipping it on its side. A small mountain of Duel Monsters booster packs spill out on to the counter.

"Shame they stopped making real cards," says the old man, sounding bitter and nostalgic all at once, "When I was your age there was nothing quite like tearing open a foil-wrapped booster pack and finding a beautiful magician girl waiting inside."

There's an expression on Yusaku's face that Revolver has never seen before: wonder.

"Are these....? Oh wow..."

"Pick as many as you like, Fujiki. My gift to you."

Yusaku takes a handful of booster packs, flipping through them. "Ancient Sanctuary, Strike of Neos, Stardust Overdrive, Galactic Overlord, Maximum Crisis...."

"Oh! It's an honor to meet another youth who appreciates the classics," says the old man happily. "Kogami-kun you know how to pick 'em."

_Yes_ , thinks Revolver as he watches Yusaku sort through the pile of colorful foil, absolutely transfixed with the beauty of Yusaku's awestruck expression, _Yes I do._


	6. Rites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Thank you for all your love and support in 2017! I look forward to hearing from you all this year too! ♡

Another year, another New Year's morning when Yusaku turns down Kusanagi's offer to visit Den City's highly commercialized and heavily trafficked temple.

"Take your brother with you," suggests Yusaku from the warmth of his bed, phone cradled between his ear and the pillow.

"He's still not ready for that... Next year then?"

"Mm," replies Yusaku noncommittally.

"See you tomorrow then?"

 _That's_ a commitment he can keep. "Tomorrow."

\--

What Yusaku has never told Kusanagi is that he does participate in New Year's rites every year, just not in the morning and not _there_.

Stepping off the train, Yusaku, bundled in a coat, wraps his scarf tighter around his neck. The temperature has dropped at least 5 degrees since he left his home and he's trying not to shiver.

Somewhere below his feet are deteriorating stone steps but the snow is so thick he can't see them. The handrails have long since collapsed from rot so he takes the steps with caution.

At the top of the hill, buried in layers of snow, is a forgotten shrine. The roof has caved in, the pond is frozen over but lifeless under its surface, and the gate to the heavens is rotting away.

Yusaku approaches the offering box, sweeping away crumbling leaves from the slots, surprised to see the box so dirty. The offering box remains sheltered from the snow, its overhang rotting yet somehow still standing.

There is no oracle to exchange for his coin, yet Yusaku gently drops it in all the same, smiling solemnly, and, closing his eyes, joins his hands together in prayer.

"Fujiki?" comes a familiar voice from behind him, and Yusaku spins so fast he nearly slips on the icy stone. He curses under his breath, calming his racing heart.

"Revolver? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"Did you follow me?"

"Did I..? Don't be ridiculous. I come here every year."

"As do I... So how is it I've never seen you here?"

" _Every_ year?"

Yusaku nods, rubbing his hands together and breathing on them for warmth.

"Usually I visit in the morning but this year I was too busy to leave home before sundown," Revolver explains. "I'm guessing you always come in the evening?"

Yusaku nods again, turning back to the offering box. "My parents brought me here when I was very young. I recall that memory so vividly yet I barely remember their faces. How fucked up is that?"

Revolver drops a coin into the offering box, clapping his hands together and closes his eyes in prayer. Yusaku watches him, diverting his gaze when Revolver drops his hands.

"You were what? 4?"

"5," Yusaku corrects, although he isn't truly sure.

"It's not _that_ fucked up. 5 is still too young to remember much. And your brain has likely retained that memory so well because you've been coming here year after year."

Yusaku shrugs. It's sound logic. It doesn't make him feel any less guilty.

"My childhood home was in this ward," Revolver continues, his voice low. "My father was always working, so my mother would bring me here for weekly prayers. She was one of those science-focused yet spiritual types."

"Do you miss her?"

"Every day."

"Mine too," responds Yusaku in a whisper. "So it was you then."

"Hm?"

"The one who cleans the box every year. The shrine is abandoned but I knew someone was cleaning it. This is the first year it wasn't clean when I arrived."

"Ah, that's right," mutters Revolver. "It's the respectful thing to do."

"Superstitious, are you?"

"Would you want the death of a shrine god on _your_ conscience?"

"I suppose not," says Yusaku with a quiet laugh, coming to a startling realization. "It's amazing... all these years we've been coming here..."

"Year after year I missed meeting you by mere hours," says Revolver, "Sounds like something out of a movie."

For a while they stand there under the overhang, snow falling all around them, gazing into each other's eyes until Revolver clears his throat and Yusaku looks away, embarrassed.

"Right so... May I take you to dinner?" asks Revolver, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.

"Sure," says Yusaku with a small smile, "Dinner sounds great."


	7. Episode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest drabble yet, and was uncomfortable to write. As such, trigger warning for PTSD and suggestions of child abuse.

Yusaku is in a white room. The walls stretch high above his head. There are no windows or ladders. It appears to be completely closed off. Logic dictates that to be impossible.

He walks along the walls, searching for the seam of a hidden door. His fingers catch on a groove and, relieved, he runs his fingers down the groove to a slight recess in the wall. It's high enough that only an adult or teenager could reach it.

He pushes in the recess and hears the telltale _click_ of a lock disengaging. The door slides open to reveal an equally white hallway. With caution he makes his way down the hallway toward a fork in the path.

Anxiety begins to build when he realizes that the two paths at the fork lead to dead ends.

He's trapped.

"What the-- How did you escape the room?"

Yusaku spins on his heel, his heart pounding in his chest. There's a man in a labcoat sneering at him.

"Escaped subject in ward 6. Requesting immediate back up."

"No! Stay back!" Yusaku screams when the man lunges at him. "Don't touch me!!"

"Shut up brat!!" the man roars, grabbing Yusaku by the arm and throwing him back in the direction of the white room.

The man and the hallway begin to warp, growing taller. No that's not it.. he's... he's shrinking. Why is he shrinking?

"Get that kid!" roars the man again as faceless people in labcoats and scrubs descend upon Yusaku.

"STAY BACK!!" Yusaku screams into a suddenly dark room. He fumbles around in the darkness, tangled in sheets and sweating. Where is he? What's going on?

His hand closes around a flat rectangular object. A smart phone. He frantically presses buttons. The lit screen blinds him in the dark. Vision blurry with tears, he opens the dialing app and taps the first number in the call log without looking at it. Too scared to think properly, he presses the phone to his ear and waits.

"Hello?" comes a sleepy voice through the line.

"I......."

"Is that you, Fujiki? It's 4 in the morning."

Revolver. He called Revolver.

"I'm so scared I..."

"Fujiki.. Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"They're coming for me. They're coming... I'm not.. I'm not strong enough.. I'll lose..."

"No one's coming. You're safe."

"I don't want to lose. Oh fuck I don't want to die..."

"You're safe. Calm down. I'm here."

"Idontwanttodieidontwanttodie"

"YUSAKU!!"

His given name shouted by Revolver is enough to momentarily startle Yusaku out of his panic.

"Revol... Revolver.. you.." His hand is shaking too much, his whole body is trembling, he's dizzy, nauseated; the phone drops on his bed.

Revolver sounds far away. "Calm down. You're wheezing. Can you breathe? Do you need me to call Kusanagi-san? 119?"

Yusaku grabs his head, rocking it between his knees. "No no no just... come over. Just come over."

"Ok. I'm on my way. Stay calm."

\--

Yusaku often loses track of time when he's having an episode. After what feels like an eternity there's a frantic banging downstairs. He flings off the bedsheets and hurries through the hall and down the stairs, forgetting to slip on his genkan slippers as he races to unlock the door.

"Revol..."

"Hey hey it's okay.. it's o-"

Yusaku, perhaps out of habit, perhaps because it feels right, falls into Revolver's arms and tightly clings to his shirt. Strong arms wrap around him, enveloping him in warmth. A weight settles on his head, Revolver's own head he realizes, and gentle hands stroke up and down his arms.

"You're okay. You're okay," comes soothing from above him. "It's going to be okay."

Yusaku trembles, from what exactly he's unsure; this is the first time Revolver has held him in such a complete manner, and he fights between wanting to shove Revolver away and to hold on tighter.

"Fujiki," breathes Revolver, slightly squeezing his upper arms between strokes. "You're safe. You're okay. Tell yourself that you're okay."

"I.. I can't I..."

"You _can_. You're the strongest person I know, Fujiki. Tell yourself that, please."

Panic is still hanging at the edges of his mind but he gathers up his frazzled nerves and says shakingly, "I'm okay."

"Once more."

"I'm okay."

"Good. That's good," says Revolver, holding him tightly. "I'm going to let go now. Can you handle that?"

"Yes," replies Yusaku, suddenly feeling very foolish, embarrassed.

"All right," Revolver breathes out, pulling away just far enough for Yusaku to see how worry has marred his otherwise handsome features. "Do you want me to call Kusanagi-san? Since I assume he's better qualified to--"

"No," Yusaku cuts him off, "This isn't.. this isn't that serious. I don't want to bother him with it."

"It sounded damn serious over the phone. You're still trembling. Where's your living room? You should sit down."

"I don't need to...."

"Would you sit down if I sat with you?"

"O...okay."

While Revolver removes his shoes in the genkan, Yusaku shuts and bolts the door. Grasping the tips of Revolver's fingers, Yusaku leads him down the hall to the living room.

"It's not much but.." Yusaku trails off. He doesn't own a coffee table nor an armchair nor a kotatsu; the television and couch are nearly as old as he is, and the rug upon the tatami is fraying. It's a barren space frozen in time.

"It's nice," says Revolver. "It's simple."

"It's depressing," says Yusaku.

"It's just furnishings, Fujiki."

"Which belonged to my parents before the Hanoi Project--" When Revolver's grip on his hand unexpectedly breaks, Yusaku remembers who he's talking to and lets out a soft "sorry" before dropping down on the couch awkwardly, kneading his hands in his lap.

"Do you truly want me to stay with you?" asks Revolver, apprehension coating his voice.

Yusaku nods, anxiety creeping over him; he didn't mean to blame Revolver for _that_... _again _.__

__Revolver sits down beside him, close but not too close._ _

__"Thank you. For picking up your phone I mean," Yusaku mutters._ _

__"What kind of boyfriend would I be if I ignored you?" snaps Revolver._ _

__"A sensible one? I shouldn't have called you. It's far too early. I'm sorry. I'm useless."_ _

__"Don't do that," says Revolver, scolding as he always does when Yusaku falls back on self-deprecation. He exhales heavily, the tone of his next words calmer if somewhat hurt, "Does that happen often?"_ _

__"Not as often as it used to. I have the occasional panic attack but since I'm awake I can usually diffuse those before they hit. Nightmares on the other hand... nightmares are difficult."_ _

__"So this was a nightmare?"_ _

__"Yea."_ _

__"...I just realized this is my first time in your house."_ _

__Yusaku considers how dependent he's become on Revolver. "I wish it was under better circumstances."_ _

__"It couldn't be helped."_ _

__"Are you mad?"_ _

__"No. Sleep deprived but not mad."_ _

__"Well we could... move upstairs?"_ _

__"Where?"_ _

__"You could stay here, and sleep, I mean."_ _

__"I'm not sure I follow--"_ _

__"Don't make me say it," Yusaku mutters, heat rising in his cheeks._ _

__"Are you.. Are you sure you're ready for that? It's far more intimate than any exercise we've tried at my house."_ _

__"It's my bed but.. it's just sleeping next to you. It's not... It's not sex."_ _

__"Of course not," Revolver says in a rush, somewhere between offended and flustered, "I wouldn't take advantage of you like that."_ _

__"Err.. well okay then." Yusaku says, rising to his feet._ _

__Revolver follows him upstairs to his bedroom, silent while Yusaku rearranges the bedsheets and pillows for two people._ _

__"Firm or soft pillow?" Yusaku mutters._ _

__"Get in already, I got it," Revolver mumbles back, choosing a pillow and smoothing it out._ _

__They both slide into the bed, Yusaku covering them with the comforter, then whispering, "Face me?"_ _

__"Sure," Revolver yawns._ _

__Yusaku scoots close enough to rest his head in the crook of Revolver's neck. He breathes in Revolver's scent, mumbling sleepily, "You're warm... and you smell nice."_ _

__"Don't say such embarrassing things," Revolver mumbles, draping his arm over Yusaku's shoulder. "This is strange enough already."_ _

__Yusaku's soft laugh dissolves into a yawn. He rearranges Revolver's arm to drape over his stomach instead._ _

__"Fujiki... I have to ask...."_ _

__"Yea?"_ _

__"After your attacks--"_ _

__"They're called episodes."_ _

__"After your _episodes_ , has Kusanagi-san ever comforted you like... well like this?"_ _

__"No.."_ _

__"Oh..."_ _

__"I don't just invite men into my bed..."_ _

__"I'm different?"_ _

__"Are you an idiot? Of course you're different, we're dating."_ _

__"Oh... of course..."_ _

__"Can we sleep now? If you keep talking I'm going to kick you out."_ _

__Revolver snickers, and through the darkness Yusaku sees him smile._ _


	8. Study Date

Revolver's intimacy exercises have been paying off. Yusaku is now able to touch him for more than five minutes at a time. Not only touch him, actually, but lean against him, _hold his hand for the sheer pleasure of it_ , hug him for more than a few seconds, and, most importantly, allow Revolver to initiate contact without visibly recoiling from it.

On this day in particular they are sitting close on Revolver's sectional couch, Yusaku's head against Revolver's shoulder, Revolver tutoring Yusaku on one of his weakest school subjects.

" _Expostulate,_ " Yusaku pronounces in accented English.

"That's right, Fujiki. You're really improving. I'm proud of you."

"Shut it. You're embarrassing me...." Yusaku mumbles, sitting up straight.

Revolver smirks. "There's no one here but us."

"I'm embarrassed for my own sake."

"That's not a.... Fujiki your hand is too close."

Yusaku looks down and sees how his hand, which was on Revolver's arm a moment ago, has slipped on to Revolver's inner thigh. 

"Sorry..." whispers Yusaku, pulling his hand away.

"Nevermind that... The sentence?"

Yusaku furrows his brows, tapping his pencil against his palm. "Is this all still English? I can't read it."

"I don't understand how a hacker can't read English..."

"That doesn't count. That's Simple English. This is... literary."

"The words are uncommon but this is at your grade level. Sound it out."

Yusaku reads the Japanese language explanation once more before making his fifth attempt at reading the English quote. " _Bure... buree... burebiichi... burebiitei.._ "

" _Bre-vi-ty,_ " Revolver enunciates. " _Brevity._ "

" _Burebiitei--_ "

"Mind your accent," Revolver reminds with a patient smile.

" _Bure.. burevitii.. brevity.._ "

"There you got it. Now the rest?"

" _Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit.. and chijiaasunesu.. chidiiesunesu.. teidii.._ Forget this crap!" exclaims Yusaku, dropping his pencil on his lap.

Revolver shakes his head slowly. "You're not focusing. You're psyching yourself out."

"It's a stupid useless subject I'll never use in real life. What's the point?"

"William Shakespeare is one of the most influential writers of the last millennium."

"I don't care," says Yusaku.

"If you can correctly pronounce that last word I'll give you a reward," Revolver mumbles, leaning his head on his hand which is propped up against the sectional.

Yusaku makes a face. "A reward?"

Revolver nods slowly.

Yusaku sighs. "Can you at least pronounce it first?"

" _Tee-dee-ess-ness. Tediousness._ "

Yusaku glares at the English passage. _"Teidiiesunessu... tiidiiessness... tediousness?"_

"Correct!" says Revolver, leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss on the tip of Yusaku's nose.

"That's it? That's the most platonic thing you're ever done with me."

"Read the whole quote correctly and I'll give you an _adult_ kiss."

Yusaku's eyes widen ever so much, and he tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. " _My liege, and madam, to expostulate. What majesty should be, what duty is, What day is day, night night, and time is time, Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time; Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief. Your noble son is mad._ How was thaffmmmmm..."

Revolver's mouth covers Yusaku's, and Yusaku sinks back into Revolver's sectional, bringing his hands up to rest on Revolver's shoulders as he's _kissed_ with vigor. Revolver brings his hands up to cradle the back of Yusaku's head and, while their lips are still locked together, Revolver lowers Yusaku flat on to the cushions, fully covering Yusaku with his body. Yusaku's textbook and pencil clatter to the hardwood floor.

Revolver breaks away, hanging his head over Yusaku's, his breath hot. "I knew you could do it."

Yusaku is flushed to his neck and ears and staring up at Revolver with shining eyes. His lips are now bright red and glistening with saliva. "English language literature is a terrible elective.."

"You're not as bad at it as you think you are. If you stopped cutting class so much I think you'd do quite well."

Yusaku shifts a bit under him and draws his arms around his stomach, a sign that the close contact is beginning to unnerve him. "You're a better teacher than that frumpy old woman at school..." Yusaku turns his head to the side and bites his lip.

Yusaku has unintentionally exposed his neck.. his flushed porcelain fair neck, at that.. and Revolver desperately wishes to run his tongue over it. Revolver gulps down a moan, and realizing how dangerous this has become, pulls away and moves to the other end of the sectional, running his hand through his hair.

Yusaku sits up, eyeing Revolver with wide eyes. "What did I do wrong?"

Revolver shakes his head with a small smile. "Nothing, Fujiki."

"I don't... What happened?"

"You're really sexy, all right?" Revolver mutters.

"Huh?"

"Kissing you like that was a mistake. There was a brief moment just now when I thought I might be unable to stop if we stayed that close."

"Unable to... oh."

"You're sexy and beautiful, Fujiki. And I don't think you realize what kind of effect you have on me..."

"I'm not _that_ attractive..." Yusaku mumbles.

"You really are though.. Just sitting here I want to do a lot of things I know you're not ready for.."

Yusaku can't seem to meet his eyes. "Err......"

"An...anyway!" Revolver abruptly exclaims with a flustered laugh. "Should we get back to studying?"

Yusaku raises his head, eyes wide, lips parted, cheeks tinged pink. "If..."

"What?"

"If all your kisses are like that then maybe I'll be ready sooner than you think," Yusaku says innocently, picking up his pencil and textbook from the floor.

Revolver, now more flustered than ever, abruptly excuses himself, heading to the kitchen to brew them another pitcher of coffee, carelessly running his hand through his hair.


	9. Omens

Long gone are the days when Kusanagi Shouichi would smile warmly at Revolver and thank him for his patronage down at Stardust Road. Revolver now feels like a pariah at Cafe Nagi. Kusanagi seems to burn his hotdogs on purpose. Kusanagi _coincidentally_ interrupts them whenever he's sitting _too close_ to Yusaku. Kusanagi undermines his advice. Kusanagi corrects his answers to Yusaku's study questions. Kusanagi just doesn't seem to like him, and --says the paranoid voice in Revolver's head that sounds suspiciously like Spectre-- Kusanagi is not shy about showing his disapproval of Yusaku dating _the enemy_.

Unfortunately for Revolver, Yusaku thinks the world of Kusanagi --because _of course_ he does-- and insists on visiting him several times a week to 'hang out'. And worse still, Kusanagi is kind in Yusaku's presence. Disgustingly, _unnervingly_ , **_unnaturally_** **_kind_**. He never shows his disdain for Revolver in front of Yusaku, and, thus, half the time Revolver thinks he _must be_ imagining it.

Today Yusaku has requested they meet up at Cafe Nagi before their date.

His phone rings. It's Yusaku.

"Hi," greets Revolver, a smile creeping onto his bored face, "30 minutes? No, I don't mind waiting. Ok thanks, bye."

"Was that Yusaku?" comes a gruff voice from behind him.

Revolver turns slowly --cautiously-- to face Kusanagi, wearing a smile so charming it probably looks fake. "Yes. The train is running behind schedule. Did you have a message for him? I'll text him for you."

Kusanagi only grunts his acknowledgement, interest seemingly lost now that he knows Yusaku is late.

Revolver takes a seat at one of the cafe tables. Today the food truck is parked in the shopping district, barely competing with a French bistro for customers. It's such a terrible choice of location that Revolver wonders if Kusanagi even cares about profits, or if he's just going through the motions now that he and Yusaku no longer have to use the food truck as a cover for their hacking operation.

"...ve him?"

Revolver freezes, looking up from his phone where he's checking social media for LINK VRAINS news, and meets Kusanagi's _cold_ eyes. "Pardon?"

"Do you love him?" repeats Kusanagi in a tone so _lifeless_ he might as well be reciting binary code.

"Who? Fujiki?"

Kusanagi, leaning on the inner counter of the food truck, stares out at him, gaze so blatantly full of hate that Revolver wonders if he's going to need to make up an excuse to leave.

"It's not a difficult question, Kogami-san."

Revolver calms his nerves, as much as he can anyway, and tells himself that the other man doesn't scare him, that he could hold his own in a fight if it came down to that.

"I think so," answers Revolver.

"You "think so," huh? Yusaku can't afford to have that sort of uncertainty in his life."

"I--"

"So," cuts in Kusanagi before Revolver can interject, "either atone for your family's sins and devote yourself 100% to his well being, or he'll find someone who will."

Is that a threat? It sounds like a threat.

"I understand..." says Revolver dully.

"I raised that boy," says Kusanagi, his voice rising and taking on a dangerous tone. "When he'd wake up screaming in the middle of the night I'd cradle him in my arms until he'd calm down. I let him sleep in my bed for 3 years because he was afraid of the dark. I took him to therapy sessions. I drove him to school. I fed him hot meals every night and monitored his weight. I bathed him until he felt safe enough to bathe himself. I didn't let him return to his family home to live alone until he assured me that he was no longer terrified that his kidnappers would return. I told him that I'd hunt down every last _Hanoi bastard_ so he could grow up in a world without evil people like _your father_. I _love_ that boy, you hear me? I'll destroy **_anyone_** who hurts him."

Revolver is lost for words. Kusanagi is truly, absolutely, _unmistakenly_ **_threatening_** him.

"Would you give up your own happiness to see him smile?" Kusanagi continues with malice. "Put yourself in harm's way to protect him? Die for him? _I would_."

Kusanagi fixes him with an equally malicious smile and then abruptly turns away to attend to the grill.

Revolver shudders. That paranoid voice in his head is beginning to sound rational.

When Yusaku finally arrives, Revolver is all too happy to escape from the older man's crushing aura. As Yusaku greets him with a shy kiss on the cheek, Revolver swears that he feels Kusanagi glaring at the back of his head.

And, worse of all, it isn't until he and Yusaku are a ways away from the shopping district that Revolver recalls that Kusanagi has a younger brother who went through the same trauma Yusaku and the other kids did. So why would Kusanagi declare _so very passionately_ his intent to protect Yusaku but fail to mention his brother -- who Kusanagi should _by all rational logic_ love **more** \-- in the same context?

Just _**who precisely**_ is Kusanagi to Yusaku?

\--

Revolver and Playmaker are back on that very same cliff where Yusaku's mask began to crack. It is just past 10 PM in the real world; the virtual moon glowing high above them pushes and pulls the virtual sea's waves in a turbulent roll.

"Hey... can we talk?" mutters Revolver. 

Playmaker, with his hand held firmly in Revolver's hand, with his body leaning against Revolver's body, and with his hauntingly beautiful lashes lowering, turns to Revolver and says with a small yawn, "What about?"

Revolver hates that he's about to ask this, but he _has to know_. "Kusanagi-san's brother... how is he?"

"Jin?" Playmaker's eyes widen a bit. "He's really messed up. Why are you interested in him? You've never brought up _this_ topic before."

"How messed up?" Revolver presses.

"His sense of reality is warped. He's been in the hospital for over 10 years after all."

"Will he ever recover?"

"I really can't say...... but it doesn't look promising. His trauma is debilitating."

"Did Kusanagi-san care for him in the same way he did for you?"

"Huh? What do you... How is that relevant?" Their hands abruptly disconnect, and Revolver drops his arm to his side. The look Playmaker gives him is unnerving, otherworldly. "Where did this come from all of a sudden?" asks Playmaker, sounding wary.

"It's just something Kusanagi-san said to me the other day."

"Which was....?"

Revolver can't tell the truth. It's too dangerous. Yusaku trusts Kusanagi too much, and would most certainly be hurt if Revolver talked badly of him. So instead, Revolver says the bare minimum. "He made it clear that he doesn't trust me, which is as much as I could expect. I'm not offended."

Playmaker frowns, that strange faraway look disappearing from his gaze. "Kusanagi-san doesn't know you."

"He's not the only one..." Revolver says. _**Stop talking**_ says the paranoid voice in his head.

"What do you mean?"

Revolver shakes his head, kissing Playmaker tenderly on the lips. "It's nothing. It's getting late, I need to log off. Do you want to catch a movie tomorrow?"

"What's playing?"

"Not sure. How about you look up film times and showings, and text me your choice?"

Playmaker smiles, absolutely stunning in the virtual moonlight. "All right. Good night then."

"Good night," says Revolver before he demateralizes into sparkling cyan and cerulean pixels.


	10. The Abyss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to drabble #10. Those in the know were warned weeks ago that this chapter was coming. Trigger warning for a brief instance of non-con. (Please don't hate me.)

Yusaku is sprinting through a hallway, shielding his head in terror as the floor shakes and buckles beneath his feet. He falls to the ground, his hands breaking his fall. He rides out another quake, leaping to his feet and running as soon as he can stand again.

He glances over his shoulder, relieved to see that at least he's managed to lose his pursuers. He ducks through an open doorway, racing to find shelter under a table. He curls into a protective crouch, suddenly registering a voice shouting at him: "Fujiki! Wake up!"

Yusaku gasps, guarding his head from the threat of falling debris, wishing that whoever is shouting at him has enough sense to seek shelter.

"Come on Fujiki, wake up damn it!"

The quakes feel localized now, as if they are resonating from his own body. That doesn't make any sense, that...

Yusaku opens his eyes, seeing a familiar face but not understanding _why_. What happened to the facility? The earthquake? "Revolver...?"

"Finally you're awake. You scared me."

Reality sets in. Yusaku is sitting up in his bed, Revolver's hands are on his shoulders, sunlight is streaming in through his window, it's morning.

"Revolver... What are you doing in my bed?"

Revolver's button-up shirt is wrinkled and his hair is mussed. "We caught a midnight showing at the cinema. I missed the last train so you let me spend the night. Don't you remember?"

"We did?" Yusaku pauses, his head pounding, his heart racing. "Oh.. right.. yes, I remember now."

"You were having a nightmare. You hit me in your sleep. I had to shake you awake. Sorry about that....." Revolver finally drops his hands from Yusaku's shoulders, sitting at the edge of the bed.

"I hit you? Are you okay?"

"Yea it was just a few slaps. I'm fine. Can we talk about that nightmare?"

Yusaku shakes his head, rubbing his temples and taking deep breaths. "I'd rather not."

"Fujiki...... I'm not going to be able to help you now or later if you keep me in the dark. You're in pain and that matters to me."

"Really.. it's nothing.."

"How is it nothing if it's clearly too painful for you to talk about? If you want us to grow closer then you must begin trusting me with this kind of stuff."

"I do trust you... It's not that."

"Then what is it? You'd tell Kusanagi-san, wouldn't you?"

"I would but he understands at a deeper level because his brother--"

"So I can never be what he is to you," says Revolver with a sudden onset of dripping jealousy, nodding as if he's just had a revelation. "I understand now."

"No!" shouts Yusaku, feeling angry, irritated and frustrated all at once. He untangles himself from his bedsheets and sits above them. "You've got it completely wrong. Stop comparing yourself to him. I told you before, didn't I? You're different."

"It doesn't feel..." Revolver trails off.

"It doesn't feel, what?"

Revolver shakes his head. "Nothing. I'm being silly again. It's time for breakfast, right?"

"You're deflecting," states Yusaku, his brows narrowing. "Why are you doing that?"

"I'm not deflecting. I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine..." With anxious recollection Yusaku notes how this conversation is eeriely mirroring one they had not even three days ago. "Tell me what's wrong."

Revolver shakes his head again, this time with rapid denial, a misplaced smile hanging off his lips. "Don't push me, Fujiki. Please."

Yusaku begins to feel as if he's precariously balanced at the edge of a cliff. "Revolver, you're scaring me..."

"Fujiki, it's okay..."

Yusaku _knows_ that _something_ is **terribly wrong** here. "No, you've been acting strangely for days now. What _is_ it?"

"I don't think I could handle your rejection. I'm willing to wait," mumbles Revolver in a hurry, running his hands through his hair and making it messier than it already is.

"What rejection?!" shouts Yusaku, genuinely terrified and ignoring the rest of Revolver's rushed rambling. He's leaning over the edge of the cliff staring into a dark swirling abyss--

The next moment passes in a blur. Revolver jumps to his feet still shaking his head and takes a step toward the door, Yusaku seizes Revolver's arm and pulls him down toward the bed, Revolver frees himself from Yusaku's grip, Revolver leans over Yusaku and pauses with his face in turmoil, Yusaku's eyes widen at the feel of a warm hand slipping past his waistband, Revolver sighs, Yusaku freezes, the hand strokes him, Yusaku's breath hitches... Revolver abruptly pulls away with both hands trembling, heaving out a mantra of "what have I done what have I done" and nearly falls off the bed as he scrambles to put distance between them.

Yusaku lies horrified. Not only because of what just happened, but because _Revolver is crying_.

"Why didn't you fight back? Oh god I'm just like him...."

Yusaku can't speak.

"I've tried for so long not to be like him but.... he hurt you, and he hurt me, and he hurt all those kids. They couldn't consent and he... I'm so sorry I'm so sorry...."

Yusaku doesn't have the words.

"I can't believe I... fuck fuck fuck.... I shouldn't be here!"

Yusaku doesn't _know_ the words. But when he sees Revolver about to flee again the only thoughts that pass through his mind are that they are about to tumble _together_ off the edge of the cliff where there will be **no saving their relationship** and that he _needs_ to **make it right**.

Yusaku yanks Revolver down again, throwing his legs over Revolver's lap and straddling him. He hurries to undo Revolver's jeans, wishing his hands would stop trembling. He manages to undo the button and yank the zipper down halfway before Revolver's hands seize his wrists.

"What are you doing?" shouts Revolver, holding Yusaku's wrists still, effectively stopping him from going any further.

Yusaku fights against Revolver's grip, trying desperately to grasp the zipper. "I.... I need to..."

"You don't need to do anything! This is so fucked up! Stop!"

Yusaku does stop, only because Revolver's desperate voice sounds so very _wrong_. He takes a breath so deep he could be preparing for a dive, and says in a broken voice, "I didn't realize how much I was hurting you."

Revolver releases Yusaku's wrists, allowing Yusaku's hands to fall limp at his sides.

"What are you talking about!?" shouts Revolver, sounding halfway to hysterical. "I'm the one who shoved a hand down your pants!"

"No.. not that... I've been so blind.. I never thought to ask you if you were getting what you needed out of our relationship. I've been so selfish. I've taken comfort from you but never paused to wonder if you needed it in return."

"What? No!"

"I never gave you the opportunity to talk about your past, or to tell me about _your_ trauma. All these years you've been hurting too, but I took advantage of you."

"That doesn't excuse--"

"You've only wanted to help me, I see that now. But I've made you feel like I don't need you. You want to feel needed but I shut you out."

"Fujiki that's..."

" _But I can't afford to lose you_."

Revolver stares up at Yusaku in stunned silence, as if he can't begin to fathom what he's hearing.

Yusaku does the only thing he can think of to begin to make this whole fucked up thing right again: he leans down and meets Revolver's lips in a desperate kiss.

Revolver struggles for a moment before giving in. Yusaku remains motionless above him, not daring to venture farther than this, and Revolver doesn't try to advance either. The kiss lasts until Yusaku is forced to break away for air.

"I'm sorry," says Yusaku as he sits up and pulls away, knowing he's on the verge of tears, "After all the trials we've faced together as a team, and after all the months we've been in this relationship... I'm sorry for not seeing your pain... for making it worse."

"Yusaku.." Revolver breathes out, sounding somewhere between stunned and drained. "I've been so wrong about you. I had hoped that after 10 years you and all the other kids would have put the Project behind you like Spectre did."

"I'm not Spectre. His case was the outlier."

"I know.. I... some part of me knew that all along. But I so desperately wanted to pretend like none of it mattered, like we could date and be carefree and start over and... I'm so sorry for what I did just now."

"It's a nice dream," says Yusaku with an exasperated laugh, his lashline wet and tears threatening to fall, and wipes his hand over his eyes. "But it's unrealistic. I'm always going to have the trauma of _that time_ hanging over me, even if I try to pretend that I'm perfectly fine... that it isn't there. It's deeply ingrained, and it will never truly go away."

They sit in silence, Revolver zipping up and rebuttoning his jeans, Yusaku waiting for the terrifying image of the cliff-of-no-return to fade from his thoughts, both of them taking deep pained breaths. Eventually Yusaku pulls away, resettling himself at the edge of the bed.

"I forgive you," says Yusaku after several minutes of nothing, staring down at his fingers. "You acted out of desperation. I know you didn't do that to hurt me."

Revolver shakes his head. "Even so, it was a selfish and horrible thing to do. I let my jealousy get the better of me, and tried to rush you. I don't deserve your forgiveness..."

"....I'm offering it all the same."

"Fujiki... you....."

"I hope you can forgive me too."

"I do, of course I do..... as fucked up as this is, I'm sort of relieved that it happened..... it allowed us to realize what we were doing wrong."

"Yea..." Yusaku reluctantly agrees.

Revolver clears his throat, voice weak. "I hope you'll want to talk to me about your nightmares.... when you're ready, of course."

"Thanks.... and I'll try to be more aware of your needs and of what bothers you," says Yusaku with a heavy sigh. "But listen... You don't have to worry about Kusanagi-san, all right? He's my friend and we understand one another but I don't have romantic or sexual feelings for him."

"I know what he means to you, and I know that without him you likely wouldn't be who you are today, and I know he was here first... Still, I can't help feeling envious of how much he holds your attention and your trust...... And when he told me how much he loves you I just..."

"He said that?"

"He did. And of course I can see why. You're kind and self-sacrificing and beautiful and... I know I shouldn't but I envy him. And it sickens me that today I made him look like the better man."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well... that is to say..."

"It's a bit late to be holding back, Revolver."

"Kusanagi-san said that he'd hurt anyone who hurts you.... well just look at us."

"It's not that simple..." Yusaku whispers, "We're both at fault here."

"But if today is any indication, I still have some growing to do.... I promise to work on controlling my jealousy."

"Ok," says Yusaku simply.

"Ok," Revolver repeats with shaky breath. "I thought I'd lost you."

Yusaku allows Revolver's words to hang in the air for a long moment before he begins with a sad smile, "Earlier you mentioned breakfast. My fridge is empty."

"I'll.." Revolver pauses to dab his thumb into the corners of his eyes. "I'll treat you. It's the least I can do."

Yusaku nods. "There's a nice little family restaurant a few blocks away. They serve Western style breakfast."

"That sounds nice," says Revolver with a half-smile.

"I'll change and meet you downstairs?"

Revolver nods back. "Sounds good. Do you have another bathroom? I need to freshen up."

"Yea.. it's downstairs across from the kitchen."

"Thanks."

After Revolver disappears into the hallway, Yusaku shuts the door, strips off his clothes and lets his tears freely fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a short hiatus from this series to focus on writing (and finishing) a third installment for "Hacking His Heart". As such, it may be a month or more until I post a new drabble.
> 
> As always, thank you everyone for your love and support ♡


	11. Sign

In the month following _that moment_ , Revolver meets up with Yusaku for dinner a few times, but they don't embrace, they don't touch, they don't even lean into each other's space. Revolver waits for a sign, _any sign at all_ that Yusaku _still wants him_ , but it doesn't manifest.

This apparent coldness from Yusaku, this _distance_ Yusaku seems to be deliberately keeping between them, it's only adding to Revolver's growing belief that he doesn't deserve Yusaku. 

Even when Yusaku repeatedly affirms that he's fine, Revolver doesn't stop beating himself up inside. He's not a good person. He deserves nothing but torment for what he did. And he's so terrified of fucking it all up all over again that he doesn't even entertain the thought of making the first move. 

And now it's Valentine's Day, and Revolver feels like absolute shit. 

Against that little stabbing voice in his head that keeps saying that accepting Yusaku's invitation to meet up at the cinema to see a newly released slasher horror film together is a bad idea, and against every thought in his self-loathing brain telling him that Valentine's Day is for lovers and not for relationship ruiners like him, here he is sitting next to Yusaku in the back row of a half-full theater and praying that it will be over soon so he can go back home to his big empty house and return to the comfort of solitude to relive his horrible moment of weakness over and over again. 

"You can share my popcorn, you know?" says Yusaku, cutting through Revolver's chaotic thoughts. He balances a bucket of popcorn on his lap, and looks away from the film to glance at Revolver. 

"It's fine," mumbles Revolver dismissively. "I'm not hungry." 

"But I bought too much. I can't possibly finish all this on my own...." 

Revolver falls for a jump scare, cursing under his breath. "Then save some for later. Kusanagi-san would enjoy the leftovers, I'm sure." 

"I don't want to share this with Kusanagi-san...." 

Revolver meets Yusaku's gaze, his heart beating faster in reaction to its intensity. "Fujiki..." 

"I want to share this with _you_ , Ryo-- Revolver." 

Revolver's heart beats faster and his stomach twists. That's the first time Yusaku has said his real name.. well part of it anyway. He doesn't deserve it.. he hasn't _earned_ it. 

"Fi..ne.." stumbles Revolver, struggling to form words, "Fine.. pass it over." 

Yusaku passes over the bucket and returns his attention to the film, but his arm doesn't return to his own space after doing so. Instead it hangs over the cinema seat arm and _dangles_ in Revolver's space, hovering just over his mid thigh. Revolver's mouth goes a bit dry and he stuffs a handful of popcorn into his mouth as a distraction. 

Yusaku takes a long sip of his jumbo soda and shifts a bit in his seat, his head moving a lot closer to Revolver's head but still in his own space. Revolver stuffs another handful in his mouth. 

Is Yusaku aware of what he's doing? He _must be_ , right? 

Another jump scare sends Revolver into a cursing fit and he turns away to set the half-finished bucket of popcorn in the empty seat next to him, not wanting to spill it onto the floor. 

He's jumpy and it definitely isn't _all_ from the horror film. 

When he turns back he notices that the seat arm between their seats has been raised so there's no divider between them. 

Okay... Yusaku absolutely knows what he's doing. This is deliberate. 

Revolver waits for Yusaku to make another move but he doesn't. Instead he crosses one leg over the other and adjusts in his seat, moving back into his own space. 

Now Revolver is on high alert. And he can no longer focus on the film. 

What should he do? Should he say something? Should he show some sign that-- 

"Hold my hand," says Yusaku suddenly, not looking at Revolver. 

"Huh?" 

" _Hold my hand_ ," repeats Yusaku, and Revolver watches, his heart hammering wildly, as Yusaku's hand reaches over into his space and hovers there. 

Feeling like he's about to throw up from nerves, Revolver tentatively raises his hand and slides it into Yusaku's. 

Yusaku, apparently determined to surprise him to death, moves their joined hands over the threshold between their seats and rests them on his thigh. 

"I want to start over," says Yusaku softly. "I don't want you to continue to feel afraid of hurting me." 

"I'm not afraid," lies Revolver, more fearful than ever, sinking under all the self-loathing thoughts battling for dominance in his mind. 

"Then kiss me," whispers Yusaku, turning his head toward Revolver and gazing into his eyes. 

"Here?" Revolver whispers, feeling parched. 

Yusaku nods. 

" _Here_?" Revolver repeats, stalling. 

" _Yes._ " 

"Fujiki I..." 

" _Now,_ " says Yusaku, his gaze so intense that Revolver resists the urge to look away. 

"I don't deserve that..." 

"Please just," says Yusaku, sounding desperate. "Just kiss me.... Ryoken." 

There _it_ is. There's _the sign_ that he's been waiting for. 

Before he can talk himself out of it, Revolver brushes his lips against Yusaku's. 

This kiss is magical. It wakes him from a curse he didn't know he was under. He didn't realize how much he missed kissing Yusaku until this moment. He didn't realize how much he truly needed this intimacy, this _acceptance_ , until now. He's in bliss. 

"Hey," says Yusaku softly when they part, mouths still close. "Are you crying?" 

Is he? Oh. Yeah he is. Shit. 

"It's just eye irritation... Dry eye." 

Yusaku laughs softly, his breathe warm between them. "I see.." 

"Why are you so patient with me, Fuji-- Yusaku?" 

Yusaku draws back a bit, far enough for Revolver to see his full face again. "Because you were patient with me. You didn't give up on me. And, even at our lowest point, you didn't leave me." 

Revolver takes a moment to let Yusaku's words set in before he says, "Yusaku..?" 

"Yea?"

"Are _we_ going to be okay?"

"I hope so," replies Yusaku. "Because I like you. I like you a lot." 

Revolver feels lighter than he has in years. His spirit soars. He can't help the weak, tentative smile that fights its way onto his lips. "I like you too, Yusaku." 

"Good," says Yusaku, laying his head on Revolver's shoulder. "I'm glad." 

Just like that a month's worth of loathing and regret is washed away from Revolver's mind and he feels... at peace. He hasn't forgiven himself, and he isn't sure when he will reach a point where he'll be able to do so, but for now, here in this moment, here as he rests his cheek against Yusaku's soft hair, here as Yusaku's thumb draws lazy circles on back of his hand, yes, he feels at peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone I'm back. Sorry that hiatus took longer than expected, but I completed the third installment of Hacking His Heart "Time Bomb", which was posted a few days ago. Please check it out if you haven't already.
> 
> As always, thank you so very much for your continued support of my fics.


	12. Points

Fujiki Yusaku's life can be summarized as a series of world shattering points plotted on the timeline of his short existence on this planet. 

The first, and most tragic, of those points happened more than a decade ago.

The second, and the reason he's where he is today, happened nearly two years ago when he decided to take his fate into his own hands.

The third, and most life changing, happened upon that Tower facing off against Revolver when Yusaku realized that he still had the capacity to dream of a brighter tomorrow.

And the fourth, and most recent, happened when a certain Kogami Ryoken barraged back into his life six months ago and reignited that small spark of hope Yusaku had been clinging to ever since he watched this person leave a year ago to embark on his journey of self-discovery.

Yusaku never would have imagined that he'd live to be 17 years old, let alone be less than a year away from completing high school and having to consider how he wishes to spend the _adult_ life awaiting him. Having fully expected to die on the war-torn path that led him to that Tower, and having long since come to terms with his own finite existence in the universe, Yusaku had no reason to plan for _adulthood_ and for all the things that often come bundled with it: higher education, career ladder, financial responsibility, intimate romantic relationships......

It's that lacking of planning that has led to _this_ point in time when Yusaku is left to ponder how _Kogami Ryoken_ fits into this impending adult life.

The man sleeping beside him is just a few months short of 20, but at times he acts like an awkward teenager. It's almost enough for Yusaku to forget that the man he had fought on that Tower had, like him, been an empty husk of a person so changed by trauma that he had only been going through the motions of life. But _this_ person is impulsive, not shy about his desires, and, somewhat endearingly, relationship challenged.

Yusaku still isn't at a point mentally where he wishes to be touched _in that way_ , but in pondering this impending adult life, Yusaku supposes that if he wishes to factor in Kogami Ryoken then long term dating and further physical intimacy come packaged together.

What this man almost did to him _in this bed_ was unsettling and scary, but even more so was Yusaku's immediate reaction to it. The level of attachment he felt in those moments has haunted his thoughts in the month and half since, and, coupled with years of pining after this person's fantastical and idealized self, Yusaku is left at a loss about what it even means.

"Yusaku.." comes Revolver's, _Ryoken's_ , _and honestly when did Yusaku start to think of him as 'Ryoken'_ , drowsy voice in the dark. "Why're you awake? What time is it?"

"Just thinking," replies Yusaku, glancing at the digital clock on his nightstand. "It's 3:00. Go back to sleep."

Ryoken rolls over and towards him, yawning with a half-lidded gaze. Yusaku smiles; Ryoken has beautiful eyelashes, some of the most stunning Yusaku has seen on a man. That's definitely a sight Yusaku wouldn't mind seeing on a regular basis.

Ryoken isn't here right now because he missed his train. Ryoken isn't here right now because Yusaku needed someone to comfort him after an episode. Ryoken is simply here because last night Yusaku asked him if he wanted to be and Ryoken said 'yes'. There's something terrifying in how ordinary that sounds, as if there's real possibility in their relationship becoming that of a _normal_ couple. And not only because that would be the most terribly mundane thing ever, but because in becoming one half of a normal adult couple, Yusaku would no longer have the shackles of his childhood trauma to use as _the justification_ for why he needs this person in his life.

"You should sleep too," says Ryoken, so groggy he sounds drunk.

Yusaku finds himself chuckling as he slips back under the comforter and fluffs his pillow. Ryoken's hand reaches for his and he takes it once he's comfortably settled the pillow under his head.

"You're cute," says Yusaku, squeezing Ryoken's hand slightly.

"I suppose," says Ryoken with a sleepy yawn. "But you're _beautiful_."

"It's not a contest," Yusaku replies with a flustered laugh, patting the back of Ryoken's hand before letting go and settling both of his hands around his pillow. "But if it were, your beauty would win."

Ryoken closes his eyes after another yawn. "It's far too early in the morning for such blasphemy..."

Yusaku stifles another laugh, deciding that _perhaps_ 'normal' is just what he needs.


	13. March 14th

It's mid-March, and Ryoken is still very wary about initiating intimacy.

Fortunately for him, Yusaku doesn't seem to have a problem with being the one to reach for his hand, to kiss him softly on the cheek, to cuddle with him on the sofa when they watch foreign films together on Yusaku's old sofa.

But ever since February ended, Ryoken has learned how to brush aside his self-loathing just enough to repeatedly invite Yusaku over for dinner at his house.

While he wouldn't call himself a _terrible_ cook, Ryoken has to admit that anything more complicated than rice, pasta, miso soup and sauteed greens is more Spectre's forte; definitely not enough to cook a full meal for Yusaku, let alone an impressive one.

And so, for the sixth time so far this month, they're seated across from one another at one end of Ryoken's enormous dining room table, finishing up the four-star restaurant takeout Ryoken ordered for dinner.

As ashamed as he is that he can't cook, Ryoken is at the very least relieved that Yusaku's tastes now extend beyond street food, fried junk and whipped desserts. It's a remarkable improvement from their earliest dates.

"Ryoken," Yusaku begins, gazing into his eyes and smiling; Yusaku says his name _a lot_ these days. "Do you know what day it is?"

"March 14th?" Ryoken replies with uncertainty, pleading with his heart to stop racing.

"Well yes but..."

"I don't understa- oh! White Day, right?"

"That's right," says Yusaku, setting down his chopsticks before rising from his seat.

"I'm sorry," says Ryoken in a sudden rush. "I forgot about it and didn't get you anything. I completely spaced, I'm-"

"Stop rambling," Yusaku interjects, stepping over to his side of the table. "I don't need gifts." Ryoken is about to protest, but Yusaku's stare is intimidating enough for Ryoken to forget his words, "..not when I have _you_."

Ryoken heart jumps, hammering ever wilder in his chest, and he finds himself struggling to speak. "Oh.. I... yes."

A small smile forms on Yusaku's lips. "I'm in need of some fresh air. Shall we go outside?"

"Onto the balcony?"

Yusaku looks like he's struggling through thoughts, his lips moving to speak before stilling before moving again. "Just follow me," he says, heading for the front door.

Ryoken hurries after him, and together they step outside into the night, a cool ocean breeze dancing over them.

Ryoken follows Yusaku down the zigzagging path, watching how the breeze lifts the wispy strands of Yusaku's hair. They reach the bottom of the hill, and, not expecting Yusaku to abruptly stop, Ryoken nearly collides with Yusaku's back. Yusaku spins around to face him, moonlight reflected in his green eyes.

"Stardust Road?" asks Ryoken, peering wide eyed at Yusaku. "You didn't want to go anywhere further?"

"Here's fine," Yusaku says. "Close your eyes."

"Yusaku?" Ryoken says with confusion.

"Do you trust me?" Yusaku replies in a soft but almost excited tone.

"With everything I have," says Ryoken without hesitation, closing his eyes.

"No peeking."

"Yes, yes, got it."

Ryoken's hand is grasped by warm fingers, then he's gently pulled along the road, to where he doesn't know at first, but then he feels shifting earth beneath his loafers. Sand.

In one direction, the shoreline at Stardust Road leads to a cove beneath his house, and in the other direction it snakes around the outskirts of Den City.

They've turned left. Towards the cove then.

"Yusaku.. where are you taking me?" Ryoken asks in a soft, apprehensive whisper.

"It's a surprise," Yusaku answers near his ear.

"A surprise? That's not like you."

"It.. could be?"

"R-right," Ryoken says, feeling a bit dumb.

Ryoken hears the waves crash, and below his shoes feels the sand becoming firmer. They must be right where the tide meets the beach.

"This is the spot," Yusaku says, after they've walked a bit further.

Yusaku gently lowers them both to sit in the sand. There's a soft brush of fingers over Ryoken's wrist, and then a familiar rush of data washes over Ryoken's mind.

Revolver opens his eyes a moment later, taking in the magnificent sight of a location he has never seen before. It's a small lagoon shimmering in purple, blue and seagreen hues with a view to the ocean beyond where a continuous shower of falling stars disappears beyond the horizon line.

Playmaker materializes beside him a moment later.

"Where.. are we?" asks Revolver, enchanted by how beautiful Playmaker looks in the magical light.

"You don't recognize it?"

"I've never been here before.. no, wait... we walked towards the cove below my house... is this what it looks like in the overlay?"

Playmaker nods. "Isn't it beautiful? A few weeks back I decided to wander beyond the central zones. I wondered how far the game map stretched in this direction; before I knew it I had ventured all the way to this side of the ocean. I walked along the beach and stumbled upon this place. It was only after that when I realized where I was in the overlay."

In awe, Revolver unequips his mask, closes his eyes and wills the virtual ocean breeze to cradle his face. Its comforting embrace takes him back to those nights so long ago when his mother would take his face into her hands and kiss his cheeks and forehead. Overcome, Revolver feels tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

"Why did you design your first avatar that way?" comes Playmaker's voice near his ear, startling Revolver out of his trance, his eyes shooting open. "With the mask and opaque eyes."

"I dunno.." says Revolver with a shrug, wiping away his tears before Playmaker can notice. "I was 13. It seemed cool at the time."

"You're serious?" Playmaker says with a laugh.

"Are you disappointed....?" asks Revolver, sheepish.

Playmaker controls his laughter a few moments later. "No... I just figured there was some deeper meaning behind it. Maybe you were trying to hide under someone else's face."

Revolver smirks. "Not all of us want to design our avatars so similarly to our real appearance..."

"Ignoring the fact that you've done just that with the current version, are you saying this avatar looks too much like me?" asks Playmaker, incredulously.

"The face at least... And maybe the hair?"

"The hair?"

"Same number of highlights. Not that I mind."

"That's rather vague criteria. Your avatar as well has the same number of highlights as your real hair."

"I'm far better looking than my avatar," Revolver responds haughtily.

Playmaker's expression clearly conveys that he's drawing far too much amusement from this. "Yes yes of course. Whatever you say."

"You're so rude," Revolver says with amusement before his tone turns serious. "But I suppose you're right. I was trying to hide something back then. I was masking my true self under a demon's face. I didn't want to see myself when I was committing such atrocities."

"You thought you could distance yourself from 'Revolver' if he looked so different?"

Revolver nods. "Did it bother you?"

"Did what?"

"That appearance..."

"No. Not really."

"Yusaku.."

"Okay, yes. I wished I could see your eyes. Those were... soulless."

"Hold on then..."

"Huh?"

While still gazing at Playmaker, Revolver suddenly goes very still. Playmaker waves his hand in front of the avatar's face but Revolver doesn't move.

Then Playmaker notices Revolver's eyes change from silver to black to red to cobalt to emerald to white to lavender to hazel and finally to gold. The style of his eyes hasn't changed from human-realistic and he looks otherwise the same, but the nostalgic color change is enough to yank breath from Playmaker's lips.

"Is this what you had wished to see back then?" Revolver asks, tentatively, his gold eyes blinking.

Playmaker's answer is to brazenly knock Revolver over into the virtual sand and kiss him with passionate purpose.

Their fingers entwine and tangle, sand shifting all around them, and as the tide comes in, it crashes over the soles of their boots and pools at their torsos.

"Beautiful," says Playmaker when he breaks away. "Thank you for showing me, you can change them back now if you'd like."

Revolver does. A moment later his restored silver eyes twinkle in the virtual moonlight. "What about the mask?"

"The mask?" Playmaker repeats, humming in contemplation. "This version only covers half of your face but well.. since you brought it up.. are you okay with ditching it? I don't want any barriers between us in LINK VRAINS."

Revolver smiles with a gentle nod, his avatar's silver bangs swaying against his forehead and the edges of his cheeks. "Yea. If that's what you want."

"Then yes, this will do just fine, thanks," Playmaker says with a loving smile. "And I'll consider it your return gift."

Revolver can't help the delighted laugh that escapes his lips. "If that's so then Happy White Day, Yusaku."

Framed beautifully in the virtual moonlight, Playmaker abruptly logs them both out again, and Ryoken finds himself absolutely breathless under Yusaku's lips once more. Hit by the heart racing revelation that Yusaku would rather share this embrace in the _real_ world, Ryoken wraps his arms around Yusaku's shoulders as they kiss under the stars.


	14. Grilled

"What're _you_ doing here?" asks Kusanagi Shouichi, settled at one of the tables in the plaza where he's set up shop for the day, sizing up Ryoken with a guarded once over, his forehead creased with stress, his jaw clenched with tension.

Zaizen Aoi and Homura Takeru, sitting at a nearby table together, pause their conversation, gawking up at Ryoken, clearly as surprised to see him here as Kusanagi is.

And why wouldn't they be surprised? Ryoken knows he must look terribly out of place here without Yusaku at his side.

Feeling a line of sweat trickling down his wrist, Ryoken tells himself it's the collective heat emanating from Cafe Nagi's grill, not at all his body reacting to something as ludicrous as _being nervous to talk to Kusanagi Shouichi_. He wipes his arm on his shirt and politely clears his throat.

"Kusanagi..san........ would you honor me with a cooking lesson?" Ryoken thinks that sounds nonthreatening enough.

Kusanagi blinks and shifts a bit on the table's bench. "Come again?"

Ryoken is sure he's just heard Zaizen Aoi's failed attempt to stifle a giggle followed by the Homura boy trying to shush her.

Ryoken tries again. "A cooking lesson.. could you teach me a recipe or two? If it is not too much trouble, of course.."

Kusanagi's brows rise so high they disappear into his hair. "You wanna learn to cook?"

Ryoken's confidence begins to falter. This was a mistake. He should just turn around and march back the way he came.

After an exceedingly long moment Kusanagi nods and lets out a gruffly mumbled, "Yea ok."

"Truly?" asks Ryoken, taken aback.

Kusanagi shrugs. "Business is slow at this time of day and there's another two hours until all the usuals get off work so why not?"

"Oh. Thank you."

"You just gonna stand there or what?"

It takes another round of giggles and shushing from the Zaizen/Homura table for Ryoken to realize Kusanagi has already climbed back into the truck. Feeling foolish, Ryoken rushes in after him.

"So why'd you want to learn to cook anyway? Don't rich guys like you hire folks to cook for 'em?"

"..that is not.. well yes but I.."

"Drop the keigo already, it sounds forced."

More than a little offended by that remark, Ryoken reminds himself why he came here, taking a long moment to phrase his response. "While it's true that I have hired help and that I often order meals from restaurants, I feel it'd mean much more to Yusaku if _I_ cooked for him."

"For Yusaku? Yea that makes sense. He's always preferred home cooking to everything else."

Ryoken ignores the pang of jealousy that stabs at his gut. "I figured."

Kusanagi drops his scrutinizing look, turning away to focus on the grill. "You know anything about cooking?"

"Only the basics. Boiling and such."

"Hm. You ever grill a fish?"

"Can't say I have."

Kusanagi nods once before going to the fridge where he pulls out a covered tray. He sets it on the counter before Ryoken who steps aside when Kusanagi reaches for a cutting board. He tears off the cling-wrap around the tray then picks up the whole fish and drops it onto the board. After chopping off and disposing of its head, Kusanagi sets aside that knife and then picks up a smaller one, prodding the tip of the blade against the fish's spine.

"You know how to de-bone a fish?"

Ryoken shakes his head. "No."

"Looks hard but it's easy actually. Hold the knife at an angle and start at the tail. Guide the tip of the blade along the spine like so, then..."

Ryoken listens intently as Kusanagi explains how to prep the fish and then how to grill it, interrupting every so often to ask questions. He finds himself surprised with how patient and thorough the other man is, truly understanding for the first time why Yusaku holds Kusanagi in such high regard.

"Have you figured _that thing_ out yet?" Kusanagi casually asks, the question out of place among his calm instructions.

Ryoken thinks it's fairly obvious that he's already picked up a few things from the cooking lesson. "That thing?"

"If you've decided if you love him."

Ryoken freezes. Shit. How didn't he see this question coming? Especially when he had already had such an awkward exchange about it with this very same man not even three months ago.

Ryoken swallows hard, cooking tongs clenched tightly in his hand. Why is he so nervous? He's a leader, a tactician, he commanded an army in war. _This_ should be easy. His throat feels suddenly parched, the heat of the grill only adding to his discomfort.

Kusanagi leans his hip against the counter, his voice turning icy. "It's a simple--"

"--question, I know," finishes Ryoken, flipping over a piece of fish when he sees it turning golden. "I should be able to answer it."

"So why can't you?"

"It's not that I can't.... It's that I don't feel comfortable discussing it with you when I haven't told Yusaku how I feel."

"What? Surely you're yanking my chain with that. Hasn't it been like 5 months? You still haven't told him?"

Shame spreads over Ryoken's face. He doesn't respond.

To his credit, Kusanagi doesn't press the issue, resuming the lesson. "When they all turn golden like that then you should turn down the heat about this much to prevent the pieces from getting too charred. A little char enhances the flavor but too much and they'll taste burnt."

When they conclude the lesson a half hour later, Ryoken, haunted by Kusanagi's reminder of his inability to put his feelings towards Yusaku into words, is at least confident that he can now grill tuna without burning it.

Well...... small victories are important too, aren't they?


	15. Hanami

At noon on a Saturday in early April, Ryoken meets Yusaku at the riverbank.

"Hi," says Ryoken, holding a picnic basket.

"Hey," answers Yusaku, a faded blue gingham blanket bundled in his arms.

"Train give you any trouble today?"

Yusaku shrugs, unfolding the blanket and unfurling it upon the grass. "Not more than usual. It was packed as expected. A lot of people doing the same thing we're doing I suspect."

"Probably," agrees Ryoken, setting the basket down and lowering himself to his knees upon the blanket. He counts at least 30 flower viewing parties scattered upon the riverbank and up on the sakura blossom lined hill above. 

Yusaku drops down beside him, facing the river, a gentle breeze swaying his hair back and forth. "It's a nice day."

"Yes, a very nice day," says Ryoken, momentarily taken aback by Yusaku's beautiful visage in profile.

"So you brought lunch?" asks Yusaku, turning away from the river to stare directly into Ryoken's eyes.

Although that stare encourages his heart to beat a little faster, Ryoken is grateful that Yusaku seems to dislike small talk just as much as he does. He retrieves a bento box from the basket, and holds it out for Yusaku to take. "That one's your's."

Yusaku nods with mild interest and removes the lid, looking the contents over. "Hm. Looks homemade."

Ryoken takes out his own bento and sets it on the blanket, then pulls out two water bottles and places one before Yusaku, screwing the cap off the other one and drinking from it. "It is."

"Yea? You have a housekeeper, right? I don't believe I've met--"

"No," says Ryoken in a rush. "I made it."

" _You_ made _this_?"

"You don't have to sound so surprised," mutters Ryoken, taking another few sips before recapping and setting the bottle aside.

"... sorry. I didn't pin you for the homely type."

"My pride is wounded..."

Yusaku makes a halfway to amused expression which fades away a second later. "Where are the--?"

"Right, sorry," says Ryoken, handing Yusaku a pair of chopsticks.

"Thanks."

Ryoken inhales, nervous, watching Yusaku's face for minute shifts in expression as he takes a tentative first bite and then two more.

"Oh wow it's delicious!"

Ryoken breathes out, pride swelling in his chest. "I'm relieved to hear that."

"This is seriously good. How long have you known how to cook?"

"Since last Thursday..."

Yusaku sputters and coughs, struggling to swallow down a mouthful of pickled plum and rice. "Yea _that_ I do find hard to believe."

Ryoken shrugs, hoping he appears as nonchalant as he sounds. "Guess I'm a quick study?"

Yusaku watches him for an unusually long moment, Yusaku's tongue darting out to clean the edges of his mouth where bits of rice stick to his lips.

"Did you learn to cook... for me?"

Although Ryoken should respond, he's too distracted by the image of that tongue burning itself into his brain. He swallows slowly, wrestling away thoughts wholly inappropriate for communal flower viewing.

As if reading his mind, in the next moment Ryoken has been gently coaxed to lie flat on his back, and Yusaku's soft lips, strongly tasting of the prickled plum he has just eaten, press against his own.

In the calming atmosphere time seems to slow, and Ryoken savors the moment... A chorus of jovial drunken laughter bursts out. A song bird's merry tune celebrates the day. A bicyclist zooms by and clangs their bell. A rock is skipped over the river's surface. A baby wails in the distance. An idol group's familiar hit song momentarily blasts. A group of children giggle while chasing each other on the riverbank. A party gives an encouraging toast. A couple shyly greets one another for flower viewing.

"You've gone red," observes Yusaku in a whisper, leaning over Ryoken, sunlight filtering down through the sakura trees bathing half his face in soft pink-tinged light.

Ryoken has no response, continuing to stare up into Yusaku's eyes until Yusaku finally pulls away a short while later.

While Yusaku resumes eating, Ryoken sits up and idly brushes pollen off his clothes, choosing to ignore the heat in his cheeks.

"Did you _really_ learn so you could cook this for me?" Yusaku asks after a time, having already finished more than half of the bento, sounding as though he truly can't believe it.

Ryoken nods, drinking from his water bottle and listening to the wind rush through the trees.

"That's adorable, Ryoken."

Ryoken lets the now empty bottle dangle from his fingers, turning it idly while he tries to find a suitable response. "I thought you were probably getting tired of all those takeout meals so I decided to--"

"Thank you," interjects Yusaku with a soft smile. "Truly. This is really good. I appreciate your efforts."

"... it's truly nothing.. I only wished to.."

"You don't have to justify your reasoning," says Yusaku with a piercing, studying look that makes Ryoken's heart race. "I understand."

Ryoken drops the bottle into his lap, averting his gaze. "I'm not sure I know what you're referring to.."

"It's all right," says Yusaku in the same bewilderingly knowing tone. "I think you'll tell me when you're ready?"

Ryoken looks up in alarm, taking a fraction of a moment too long to remember to compose his face, genuinely confused. "I'm sorry what are you--"

"Hey look," says Yusaku abruptly, staring up in wonder as a strong gust dislodges thousands of sakura blossoms into the air. "It's like pink snowfall."

Unable to tear away his gaze from the rarely seen childlike wonder in Yusaku's eyes, Ryoken says, "Yes, it's beautiful."

Eventually the gust settles down and blossoms abruptly fall all over the riverbank, one dropping into Yusaku's hair, cradled by soft tresses.

Ryoken can't help himself. He reaches for the blossom. Yusaku catches him by the wrist.

"Ryoken."

"Ah? Did I startle you?"

"No." Yusaku releases his grip, Ryoken drops his hand.

_How did you possibly forget..._

"There's a... flower," says Ryoken, pointing and knowing he sounds stupid. "There."

Yusaku's hand searches for the blossom, retrieving it a moment later, spinning it between his fingers. Yusaku stares at the blossom for a long time, tilting it at every angle, stroking its petals with his thumb. Finally he holds out the blossom and says, "I want you to have it."

"Have it?"

"Yea. As a gift. Momento. Whatever."

Ryoken cups his palm and allows Yusaku to gently place the blossom there, their fingers brushing. Ryoken closes his palm around Yusaku's fingers and pulls him in again, kissing him softly for a moment, allowing their foreheads to touch.

"Delicate, soft, beautiful," murmurs Ryoken, gazing into Yusaku's blurred eyes.

"The blossom?"

"..no."

"Well that's not me, Ryoken."

"How about your namesake?"

"Wisteria? Yea, that's probably a better description of me."

"Beautiful but deadly?"

"Flatterer..." Yusaku chuckles, his breath tickling Ryoken's nose. "That describes you too, doesn't it?"

"Deadly, sure. Beautiful? I don't think so."

"Well I do.."

"No point in arguing with you, is there Yusaku?"

"Oh you did learn something after all!" exclaims Yusaku as he pulls away and moves to sit shoulder to shoulder with Ryoken.

Ryoken makes an annoyed noise and Yusaku laughs.

"I.." begins Ryoken, enchanted by the sound of Yusaku's carefree laughter, before falling to silence.

Another gust of wind rustles the trees, sending a flurry of petals into the air. Ryoken is grateful for the distraction.

"It really does look like pink snowfall," comments Ryoken when the trees have settled again, finally taking the lid off his own bento and beginning to eat.

"Yea," says Yusaku, pushing aside his now empty bento box and drawing his knees up to his chin, his crossed arms resting on his knees and his head resting on Ryoken's shoulder.

Ryoken has nothing further to add to the conversation, so he eats his lunch, content to sit in silence beside Yusaku while they watch the blossoms drift in the wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no update. I got a new job so lately my mind has been elsewhere. Apologies for the wait.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! ♡


	16. Time

Yusaku stands upon a moor of bleached ivory. He knows this place well. His haven for so many years. He's bound to it. It's carved into his heart.

His shadow creeps up the walls, rising from the sea of white to match his height. The darkness whispers, climbing the ceiling, dangling but not dripping, molasses, a spider in a web of tar.

Yusaku smiles through cracked lips, numb, resigned. His torn and dirty clothes brush uncomfortably against his skin when he lifts a tiny hand. His bare bleeding feet streak a trail of crimson across the cold tile; his trainers full of holes lay forgotten in the corner. Reaching, seeking, desiring peace he gazes up at the companion he's known since time immemorial.

"Have you finally come to take me away?" asks Yusaku in a child's curious tone.

The darkness doesn't speak. It has no mouth.

"The experiments ended, but I'm still here in this cell... with you..." Yusaku muses, all at once terrified and captivated by the creature on the ceiling. It watches him with wide, acid green eyes. His eyes.

How he's managed to survive this long without his mind unraveling into total madness not even he knows. Shackled to this single moment in time, he cannot move forward.

"That voice... they didn't come back for me. They promised.."

 _Alooooone_ , wails the darkness, communicating in the only way it can, interjecting into his own thoughts. _Looosssssst.._

"Lost," agrees Yusaku, craning his head back so far it's impossible he hasn't fallen. "Unknown."

 _No,_ speaks a third voice, ringing out in the dark. Yusaku spins around, wincing as his cut feet slide over the tile. He searches but there's no one there. Only him and...

The darkness is gone. His shadow has vanished. The white walls are stark, the ceiling bare. Before his eyes his tiny hand stretches to that of an adult's. He watches in stunned silence as it grasps round brass. A door has materialized in the wall. Ornate, steel-blue, shimmering like an ocean of stars.

Warmth radiates from the door, loving, welcoming reprieve bathing his fingers. He realizes then that he's cold, hypothermic. How close to death has he been? And for how long?

His hand begins to turn the knob, but his arm feels suddenly sluggish, weak. He sees it then, his shadow has returned, it's trying to drag him backward, trying to stop him from opening the door.

The darkness coos in his mind again, seductive to his now adult ears, wrapping its tendrils around his arm. _Staaaaaaaaaaayyy heeeerrrrrrre_

It's siren-song invites him to become one with the abyss. To go to that place where he'll know no past, no present, no future.....

How bad could nothingness be? To finally end his suffering, to take away his reason for fighting.. wouldn't it be so much easier to accept the darkness' generous offer, to fall into depths of non-being forever more?

 _No,_ says the other voice again. _Escape._

"I must.. escape."

Yusaku lunges forward, struggling to anchor his aching feet to the spot, resisting the allure of the darkness even as it wraps itself around his other arm and tugs him back.

_Emmmisssssarrry rrrevennnngggge... haaaate... Haaaaannnnooooiii_

The darkness is right. Yusaku hates the Knights of Hanoi. His only reason to exist is to enact vengeance upon them, upon their leader R--

A wave of cold unlike anything he's ever felt in this cell crashes over him. He knows something is terribly wrong, but his mind is now blank.

"R... R... R....... no, I.. I can't remember.."

_Kogami.. his name..._

Amongst his chaotic thoughts Yusaku registers that he's been yanked from the door and that he now lies in a crumpled bleeding dirty heap upon the moor of ivory, back where he started. The door is fading away, seeping back into the wall.

"Kogami? How do I know that name?"

_My kidnapper.. ruined my life.. he must pay with his.._

"He must pay," agrees Yusaku. "He must pay."

 _No,_ says the third voice yet again.

"No?"

 _No_ , it repeats. _No._

In the blank haze of Yusaku's mind forms a vision of two figures standing on a tower, two figures fighting to the death for their ideals, two figures struggling against fate...

It's nostalgic somehow... but how could he have seen that place before? He only knows this cell, his prison. He's never gotten out of here... has he?

And Yusaku finally remembers.. the man named Kogami is already dead. His quest for revenge has ended. There is only him and...

"Ryoken!"

Yusaku with all his might makes a mad rush for the door, slamming his hand around the knob and rotating it with purpose.

Behind him the darkness is a banshee, wailing at the top of its lungs, a memory frozen in time. It can't pull him back now, his will to escape this place is far too strong to be denied.

Yusaku momentarily looks back over his shoulder, seeing his six year old self losing again and again, electrocuted, sobbing.

"It's OK," says Yusaku, overcome by the warmth radiating from the door. "Soon you will be able to leave this place."

"How do you know?" says his other self between screams.

"Because I remember this exchange. Someday you will be the one before this door, assuring us that everything will turn out okay. So for now, think of three reasons to go home. Three reasons to defeat the enemy. By thinking you can still live."

And then Yusaku opens the door and allows himself to fall...

Yusaku discovers himself sitting bolt upright, startled from sleep. He gropes around in the dark for his phone, nearly knocking it onto the floor. 12:48 AM.

He flops back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling, thinking, recalling.

Will he always have these dreams? Even with his savior made flesh and blood, even when that person has become so deeply rooted in his life?

He's had that person on speed dial for months now, sometimes calling him in the middle of the night as he does tonight.

"Yusaku?" comes Ryoken's groggy voice over the line.

"Can I come over?"

"Yea," says Ryoken, and Yusaku can hear the smile in his voice. "Should I send the car?"

"I'll catch the train."

"It's still running at this hour?"

"Cross-country line is..."

"I'll pay your fare."

"Don't, I'll refill my commuter pass when I get to the station..."

"Sorry did I forget to mention I already put funds on it for you?" says Ryoken, sounding smug.

Yusaku shakes his head, laughing, surprised by how loud his own voice sounds in the otherwise total silence of midnight. He gets up to get dressed, putting his phone on speaker. "You're not paying my fare."

Ryoken goes quiet for a short while; Yusaku momentarily closes his eyes and focuses on the calming sound of Ryoken's breathing, letting the disturbing imagery of his dream wander far away from his thoughts. This moment in time.. he'll anchor himself to it, as he has so many others over the past few months.

"... were you even asleep?" says Yusaku, pulling on jeans.

"... you caught me."

"Insomnia?" asks Yusaku, knowing that too well himself. He puts on a hoodie over his night shirt, arranging his hair a bit in the dusty mirror on the wall, stopping soon after, considering it a lost cause.

"Probably..." says Ryoken with casual indifference. "Not like it matters."

"It matters to _me_."

"You don't need to worry about me, I'm fine."

Yusaku sighs, picking up his phone and house key, and heading down the stairs. "Ryoken, I'm serious, I'm not letting you pay my fare. How much did you preload? I'm paying you back."

"Don't bother, it's a gift. See you in half an hour?"

"Yea," says Yusaku, not happy that Ryoken keeps spoiling him like this, but knowing he's far too stubborn to take 'no' for an answer no matter what Yusaku says.

"Travel safe, OK?" says Ryoken with a startling level of concern.

"OK," says Yusaku, stepping into his trainers.

As Yusaku heads out into the cool night, Ryoken's wary voice comes over the line. "Yusaku..."

"Ryoken?" replies Yusaku, locking his front door and briefly shielding his eyes from the glow of the streetlamps.

"I..."

"Yea?" says Yusaku, his heart beating a little faster, his anxious mind wondering if this too will be a moment to remember in time.

"No.. nevermind.. it's nothing. See you soon."


	17. Relationships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is officially 1 year old! Thank you for sticking with me all this time. And thank you so much for 250 kudos! You guys are amazing, I really don't know what to say! ♡

It's a sunny April day on Stardust Road, and Ryoken can't believe Kusanagi is actually about to leave them alone.

"Oi Yusaku.. you sure that's enough for lunch?"

Yusaku, with wrapped hotdog in hand, nods. "Yes, Kusanagi-san. We're good."

"All right!" says Kusanagi, completely ignoring Ryoken, not that Ryoken _cares_. "I'm going to be at the park by the arcade. Lots of parents with kids to cater to! Call me if you need anything!"

Yusaku and Kusanagi share a wave of farewell, and then Kusanagi drives off, taking Cafe Nagi with him.

Ryoken wonders if Yusaku told Kusanagi about their date today. He must have. Ryoken thinks he shouldn't be _this_ happy about the mere _idea_ of Kusanagi not being pleased to leave Yusaku alone with _him_... but for the sake of at least trying to appear humble he doesn't let his glee show.

"Hope I didn't burn it too badly this time," says Yusaku as he joins Ryoken at the picnic table, watching Ryoken take small bites of charred hotdog. "A bit black on the bottom huh?"

"No, this is good," says Ryoken. "Thank you."

Yusaku tilts his head slightly, a gesture Ryoken has come to recognize as Yusaku analyzing for deeper meaning. "If it's bad, you don't have to spare my feelings..."

"It's good, really.. your technique has improved a lot. This is almost as good as Kusanagi-san's."

"Oh. Yea that's fair..."

Yusaku unwraps his hotdog, folds back the wrapper and takes a bite, then he turns toward the sea, his expression almost wistful, his cheek resting on his closed palm, the gentle April breeze swaying his bangs.

"... this feels nostalgic," says Yusaku before he takes another bite.

"Does it?"

"Yea.. I'm remembering the first time you bought me a hotdog."

"You mean when I asked you out?"

"Yea."

"Yusaku I.. you know I tried to hide it back then, but I was afraid you'd reject me. No... I was _certain_ you would."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you think I'd say no?"

"Well you had no reason to say _yes_. Did you even _like me_ back then?"

Yusaku shrugs, a one shoulder lift and fall, followed by another bite. "We weren't adversaries anymore.. not like we were ever truly against one another anyway... and you'd already shown signs that you wanted to make amends so... I suppose I did.."

"Suppose?"

Yusaku turns back to Ryoken, his expression now blank. "I don't like many people."

"You like Kusanagi-san?"

"I didn't at first."

"But you had 10 years to get to know him."

Yusaku's brows raise slightly. "10 years? Who told you that?"

"He did. Said he raised you and threatened to hurt me if I hurt you."

Yusaku stares for a moment then the corners of his mouth twitch and his shoulders begin to shake. He nearly drops the hotdog.

"Yusaku?"

Yusaku's closed fist shifts from his cheek to obscure his mouth. Then his eyes close, his shoulders shaking.

"Are you laughing?" says Ryoken, bewildered.

"No," says Yusaku, clearly struggling to mask his mirth, his voice an octave higher than usual. "Kusa.. nagi-san... he said he..."

Ryoken blinks, getting a bit irritated when he realizes he's missing the joke. "What is it?"

"He... oh man my sides hurt this is too funny.." says Yusaku, opening his eyes, tears clearly visible at the corners. "He said... he said he..."

"Care to share?" says Ryoken with a lazy snarl.

"You've been led," says Yusaku, completely failing to hold back his laughter now.

"Led? How?"

"I met Kusana.. gi-san.. two years.. ago.."

"What? But that would mean.."

"Yea," says Yusaku between laughs, "I was already giving your lackeys beatdowns.. by the time I met Kusanagi-san."

"You were already Playmaker.." says Ryoken, feeling like the earth is trembling below him.

"Yea sorry about that..." says Yusaku, finally managing to compose himself enough to make it through a whole sentence. "Kusanagi-san can get really intense when it comes to me and Jin... and Takeru too now I guess.."

Ryoken's gaze drops to the table. "All the victims, you mean."

"Yea pretty much..... I don't know why Kusanagi-san lied about when he met me. He probably had his reasons."

"It's not that surprising.." says Ryoken, annoyed. "He had no reason to trust me. Still doesn't."

Yusaku shrugs, sets his half-eaten hotdog on table, and then pulls his jacket close to his neck; the breeze is still a bit cold in mid-April. "He'll come around eventually I'm sure.. he's a good guy.."

"I don't really care if he does... especially now I know he didn't raise you."

"He may not have raised me and I don't think we've ever actually defined our relationship, but at some point I began to think of him as a friend."

"That's a really convoluted way of saying you care about him."

"Like I said before... I don't like many people..... so expressing my feelings when I do like people? Well.... that's always been a challenge."

"But you do like me?"

"You still have to ask?" says Yusaku, dry.

"Sorry if that bothers you. I'm used to straightforward responses."

"I know," says Yusaku with a tiny grimace.

Ryoken's face falls as he remembers his most recent sin. "I'm really trying here.."

"I know you are... and I appreciate it. I get that it's probably frustrating for you.... but I just don't adapt well to that sort of _go all in_ type of passionate dating. I like taking things slow.. more so _need_ to take things slow.."

Ryoken nods with pained understanding. "I want you to tell me if I'm ever coming on too strong. Making you uncomfortable is...."

"I understand. You're doing fine now. And it means a lot. Throughout my life, not many people have gotten anywhere near to understanding me. The therapists pretended they knew how I was feeling. The social workers treated me like glass. Classmates think I'm someone else entirely. You and Kusanagi-san are about it."

"Not Homura? Aren't you guys the same?"

"Sure we got _that_ in common but..."

"Sorry.. that was insensitive."

Yusaku shrugs. Ryoken can't tell if he's bothered or unaffected.

"In any case.. I'm still deciding if we're friends. He's genuinely a nice guy though.."

"Kusanagi-san is a good guy. Homura is a nice guy.... What am I?"

"My boyfriend. Who worries far too much about things that don't matter."

"Your... boyfriend.."

"Isn't that what you are?"

"Am I? I think I used that word once but you didn't react so I thought you--"

"You don't want me to call you my boyfriend?"

"I didn't say that--"

Yusaku interrupts him with a soft kiss, lingering close with a small smile. ".... you should eat your hotdog before that seagull steals it."

Ryoken finally notices the bird; it's perched on the edge of the table, the breeze ruffling its wing and back feathers. "How long has it been sitting there?"

"Since you brought up Takeru."

"You didn't say anything..."

"I thought you'd notice. They're big birds."

".... I wasn't paying attention."

"I'm not even remotely surprised by that.."

"Ouch," says Ryoken with half-hearted melodrama.

"Not gonna lie.. your complete lack of self-awareness is kind of adorable."

"That's both endearing and insulting. I don't know how to feel. Thanks."

"You're welcome," says Yusaku, tearing off a piece hotdog bun and throwing it onto the sidewalk. The seagull dives after it.

"You shouldn't feed them. They're pests."

"Hungry pests."

"Pests all the same."

Yusaku shrugs, smiling. "You're rather uptight, aren't you... boyfriend."

"Wow.. you've taken a nice word and somehow managed to make it sound condescending."

"Have I... boyfriend?"

"Stop."

"Boyfriend."

"Yusaku please.."

And when Yusaku whispers with an unapologetically smug smile, Ryoken finally understands where the dark Ignis got its personality, " _Boyfriend._ "

Ryoken crushes his lips against Yusaku's, tasting the faintest lingering hint of mustard and burnt sausage. Yusaku pulls away just long enough to come around to Ryoken's side of the table and slide himself onto the bench before he brings their mouths back together. Ryoken grins into the kiss and drapes his arm around the small of Yusaku's back.

Neither of them care that the seagull is stealing their half-eaten hotdogs.


End file.
